Future Hearts
by girlwithacinderblockgarden
Summary: It was a mistake, and a little white lie wouldn't hurt. A little white lie that was four years in the making and probably shouldn't have made her feel as good as it did. And it did. Oh, god, it did. She could blame it on adrenaline, on anything from that night, really. But it was impossible to ignore the fact that it made her feel better than any award ever would.


**Oops. Again.**

**I really did miss writing, and I think that it's relatively cathartic with all the stress I'm under lately.**

**I wrote this one while listening to All Time Low's new album. Originally, this was going to be inspired off of Don't You Go, but it ended up being a conglomerate of the whole album? Songs that I'd recommend to go with this in terms of setting the mood include: Satellites, Don't You Go, and Cinderblock Garden. **

***Also, I NEVER write RL fics. But it's just so tempting…**  
_

She was going to die before she was 25, at this point. He wasn't really doing anything to help her stress levels. Between the rumors, the interviews, the long days… He was really doing a number on her. And the last weekend had been the final straw.

Her feed was filled with mentions, screenshots, and gifs. She couldn't get away from it. From the number of times her name was the answer he gave, to hug that took precedence over everything, to the stupid grin that covered her face after… It was haunting her. And frankly, it was messing with her head.

To be fair, lots of things were messing with her head lately. She was trying to brush it off, justifying it by the end of the way things were coming close. But she knew that wasn't it. She was too caught up in a mistake. A stupid mistake she made in a moment of excitement, and she was still regretting seeing the look in his eyes that made her heart drop at the same moment her flip flop fell off her foot (to be fair, what was she supposed to do about her shoe when she was an additional 10 inches in the air and slightly lightheaded from the current events?). He was so… Hopeful wasn't the word. And it wasn't questioning, either. Damn it. He was elated. Like Christmas had come early and he was 5 years old again. She watched it slip from his face as he registered she wasn't mirroring his expression. She shook her head as he set her back down, and she felt everything that was spinning clunk down to the ground. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she looked for her missing shoe, avoiding the eyes she knew were watching her.

"Don't go. Please." His whisper cut her like a knife.

She shook her head to clear her mind of the memory. The stress was getting to be too much. There were mountains _everywhere_. And she was running out of excuses for her to stop pacing in the valley and finally climb the things.

Of course, there was the big excuse. But that was getting thinner every day, and she still hadn't told him. It was a mistake, and a little white lie wouldn't hurt. A little white lie that was four years in the making and probably shouldn't have made her feel as good as it did. And it did. Oh, god, it did. She could blame it on adrenaline, on anything from that night, really. But it was impossible to ignore the fact that it made her feel better than any award ever would.

* * *

He wanted to scream it from the mountaintops. A particular set of mountains, really, but he wasn't too picky at this point. So long as he could talk about it. He'd told his sister, but that was about it. Everyone else scared him.

"Do you think she's ready for it?" his sister asked him. He was high off of finally getting the gratification he'd delayed for so long. So happy that he'd forgotten to consider the one excuse she had for not being ready. Goddammit. She was with someone.

He was thankful for people who looked the other way when he slinked into the bar. Three fingers of whiskey later, his throat was beginning to match the burning of his heart. He was stupid to forget something that important.

He was kind of sick of the unending sibling support, to be honest, so he looked the other way as a figure slid in next to him at the bar. But instead of who he was expecting, she was there.

"You don't drink."

"I thought I'd make an exception."

She ordered a glass of white wine (because honestly, did he expect her to do anything much harder? She was only about this big) and took a long sip of it before looking at him again. God, those eyes were going to kill him. They weren't as sad as they were before. That was lucky. He couldn't take that look again. But they weren't an expression he recognized from her, either.

"Might be the right night to do that." Unfortunately, there weren't any more words at the bottom of his glass.

Her response was to finish off her glass. Determination. That was the look in her eyes, now. Her fingers reached for his, and she slid her hand in his, tugging him off his chair. She dragged him out of the bar, out to her car, and got in, raising her eyebrows as an invitation. Denying a gorgeous girl? That wasn't in his nature.

* * *

They were silent as she drove. Her mind was reeling through her decision. One night. A cliché, for sure, but it couldn't hurt. One night, and she'd be free of these lingering feelings, and she could send him on his merry way. It was a solid plan, she told herself. She didn't do these things, but it would be for the best.

So into the bedroom they went.

The sex was easy. Amazing. Satisfying. What she didn't account for was waking up next to him in the morning. It was supposed to be a one-night stand. At least, it was until she woke up tangled in his arms. She wasn't supposed to be conflicted about the way she felt after this.

His shirt was on the ground, and it was the first thing she saw. Or at least, that was the justification she was giving herself for shrugging it on as she padded off to make breakfast. _You don't make breakfast for one-night stands._ But he was a friend. And besides. It wasn't that much effort to make some eggs and bacon.

* * *

He smelled the bacon, first. And then he realized where he was. He walked to the kitchen, and his breath caught as he saw her in his clothes, making breakfast like it was the most natural thing in the world. That was what sealed the deal for him. If she was making breakfast for them, then it meant something. You didn't just make breakfast for someone you intended to kick out. So he walked up and slipped his arms around her waist.

"G'morning," he whispered in her ear, rubbing his nose against her hair. He felt her tense, and his heart broke a little bit. It wasn't supposed to be like that. She was wearing his clothes and making him breakfast and he was supposed to come in and watch her like he was the luckiest bastard in LA. Because he was.

"Hey… Look at me." She turned reluctantly, and that look was back in her eyes again. So he did the only thing he could think of and kissed her again. None of the sloppy kisses from last night. He might have been pushing his luck, but that didn't matter anymore. She was kissing back. Until she wasn't.

"This… This was a one time thing, okay?"

"Why are you making breakfast, then?"  
"Because it's the nice thing to do when a friend stays over."

A plate of eggs was shoved at him. He took them, and sat at the island. She made kickass breakfast food, he'd have to admit. But apparently, she made it for her friend. Friend. In his book, you didn't sleep with your friend.

"Friend, my ass," he growled, making his way over to her. "You don't do things like last night with a friend. You do them because you care about someone. At least I do." He took one last look at her eyes before he spoke again. "I refuse to believe that after knowing you for as long as I have, you'd just sleep with someone for the hell of it. Because I slept with you for a reason."

She kissed him first, this time, but he wasn't too far gone to notice the salty taste sliding into his mouth. He picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom.

* * *

"I love you."

"Oh… God. I think I could love you, too."

With that, the last of her self-preservation slipped away. He had been right. She wasn't that girl. She didn't do anything without reasoning and thought, and she was so wrong to think that it was going to be a one-time thing, a one-night stand.

There was a problem, though. And being the girl that she was, she was going to have to fix that before she could let herself feel everything that was threatening to crash down on her at any second.

"You have to leave. I'll call you when I'm ready, okay?"

She sees him break at that, and it breaks her. But he leaves, and drops a kiss on her head before he does. She melts a little, but knows she needs to be strong.

What does one wear to a breakup? Something cute? Something casual? Something sloppy?

Jeans and a tshirt it is, she decides, slipping on her flats and grabbing his jacket off the rack. She takes one last glance at herself before heading out the door. Ironically, a set of lyrics pops into her head. _Here comes forever, girl._

* * *

They can all tell something's going on. He's jumping every time his phone dings, and deflating every time he checks it.

His sister has shot a look at anyone who dared to open his mouth. This is his battle, and he'll tell them when he's ready. In the meantime, she'll shield them from asking too many questions he might not be ready to answer.

He's grateful for that, really, because he doesn't have the answers right now. A few days ago, he had them all, and they mostly began with her name. There was a pact made four years ago. But the conditions of the pact were ending. A guy could hope, right? A guy could hope, and dream, and practically throw himself in front of every available microphone to say things that meant something, but it didn't mean anything without the girl.

He was so close to getting the girl. So close to mountains being a thing of the past and not having to hide how he felt. But now, he was waiting on her to call. He didn't know why he was waiting. What she was doing. All he knew was that she would call.

"I ain't no superman, but I can change your world…" His phone was ringing. Not just ringing, but playing her ringtone. Four sets of eyes followed him, seeing the caller ID and picture attached to the song.

* * *

She stood outside his house, leaning against her car, and taking huge breaths as she dialed his number. This was it.

They say that you can sometimes feel the moment when everything changes. This was one of those moments.

"I'm outside…" she whispers into the phone, snapping it shut the second he responds. She closes her eyes tightly as she says a quick prayer to whoever is listening before she hears the door open.

"You need to explain."  
"I know."

He walks across the lawn to her, balling his fists into his chest to keep from touching her. He won't get anywhere with a repeat of this morning.

"I broke up with him. Mostly because it was no use lying to myself."

He nods, and she takes another deep breath.

"I was scared of what it all meant. Because you're not exactly giving me a reason to think that this will fall through."

"I haven't exactly thought this would fall through since we met."

"I know. And that's scary. You scare me to pieces because this is so real. I can't hide behind anything anymore."

"So don't hide. Let me in. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

Letting him in is the hard part. Letting him in means that this is quite possibly it for the rest of her life. That's a big possibility for 19 years old. It means tours and press and intrusions… And it could mean happiness and security and love. It means giving into one of her best friends. Letting go of the promise she made to herself a few months early. Jumping in headfirst.

So she kisses him. And this time, it isn't a mistake. It's possible that it feels better than anything ever has (including the mistake, because she's finally just feeling what she's kept bottled up for so long). She kisses him, and he kisses back, and there's so much joy in her that she can't stand it. Apparently, neither can he, since he's swinging her around in a circle.

She'll pretend she can't hear the whooping coming from inside the house. That wasn't unexpected, since they've been giving them hell for years. Instead, she's back on her feet, pulled up against his chest, and she feels whole.

"The easiest thing you've ever done, huh?"

"Loving you is easy. Hiding that I love you hasn't been."

She's sure that loving him will be easy. Maybe other people won't be, but she'll still have her home base. That much, he's making clear by the way he's tugging her along by the hand into the house. They're met with applause, and she blushes. But nothing prepares her for the rush of emotions she feels when she hears him say, "Guys, you know my girlfriend, right?"

Maybe they can make forever after all.


End file.
